


Detox

by Semi_problematic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Bullying, Detox, Drug Addiction, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, False Accusations, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Insecurity, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Physical Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 23:33:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15982850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semi_problematic/pseuds/Semi_problematic
Summary: "That would be a mess for you to clean up."Bobby laughed as if Sam was kidding. "Well, if it wasn't world peace, what did you wish for?""Dean." Sam whispered. It sounded like a secret.





	Detox

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING  
> In this fic it is mentioned over and over that teachers thought Dean was molesting Sam. No one was actually molested, but it was mentioned.

Sam learned how to tolerate the sound of dripping water. There was a leaking pipe in Bobby's basement that he never had the time to fix. Sam promised he would fix it when he was okay again, when he was clean, but the look in Bobby's eyes told him something. A secret that he was terrified of. He would never be clean. He never had been. Ever since that night in his crib he had been infected. Toxic. 

He could feel it sometimes, too. The calling to be bad. The evil pulsing through his veins. Sam tried to believe that he wasn't what everyone thought, but it was hard. Giving up and being bad would be easy. The pain would be gone and so would the guilt. It was written in stone that he was going to be evil. To rule better than Lucifer could ever. But Sam had never been known for taking the easy way out.

A few days ago, Bobby brought Sam a pencil, a calender and a few books. The pain came in waves for him, so for a few hours each day he could function normally. He could read or write or think until the pain swallowed him up. Bobby hardly spent time in the room with Sam, no one did. They stayed away from him. He could hear them come down and watch, wait, and listen. Sam didn't know what they expected. Screams. Sobs. Apologies. The options were endless.

There were two slits in the door. One at the bottom for trays and books to be slit through then the other that was a foot by foot sqaure. It gave Sam a good look into the dark hallway and up the stairs where Dean would stand and wait. Sam would hold his breath when he could see his shoes. Wait for Dean to come down and say he missed him, that he knew Sam was getting better. It never happened. Sam didn't think it would.

As the sun began to brighten up the morning sky, Sam rolled over and stared. There was a metal chain that curled around his ankle. It held him in place just in case the door opened and he wanted out. He felt like a caged animal. Except he wasn't angry. He was sad, empty even. Sam didn't sleep when he was in there and he hardly ate. If he slept it was when his body ignored the demon blood inside and collapsed from exhaustion. 

On the wall hung a calender. Each day was crossed off, showing Sam what day it really was. His birthday. Sam never had good birthdays. Dean would give him a book or take him to dinner. Jessica would make him a cake and have a small party. Even dad got him presents and thought it was enough. Birthdays weren't about gifts to Sam. It was about who was around. Somehow, he managed to feel alone on every birthday that wasn't spent with Dean. 

Sam loved Dean in every sense of the word. He loved him as hard and as passionate as he could, but it was never by force. Sam was sure he was born loving Dean. Dean was a good man, the best man Sam had ever met. It was hard to believe Dean loved him back, but he did. Just in different ways. His love was silent while Sam's was loud. 

Sam never knew the love he had for Dean was dirty and bad and wrong, not until he was ten and proudly announced to teachers that he wanted to marry Dean. They called John up and told him that they were too close and that maybe Dean was hurting Sam. Sam still felt sick at the thought. Dean got beat that night. John screamed at him for hurting Sam when he never laid a hand on him. Told him that if he ever caught Dean touching him he would kill him.

Abuse. That was what the teachers called it. The Winchester's already set off many red flags inside the school district, but Sams devotion to Dean caused them to snap. Teachers believed that Dean was molesting Sam and telling him it was okay. No boy loved his brother that much, the teacher had said, they should have grown out of it. Sam couldn't imagine growing out of loving Dean.

Goodnight kisses went away and suddenly Dean slept on the floor. John never left him alone and for months Dean didn't even look Sam in the eye. Dean had permanent scars from John beating him and the words "monster" and "freak" often referred to Dean.

By twelve Sam knew what they thought Dean was doing. There was a thirty two year old man in the town they were in that raped and killed young boys. Sam couldn't believe that those teachers believed Dean did that and that John could believe it, too. 

When Sam was fourteen those words started to describe him as well. Dean didn't talk to him during the day, in fact, he pretended he didn't know Sam existed. Sam was the odd kid who loved reading and boys. Boys like his big brother. He had no friends in high school and by the time he graduated he hardly had Dean. 

Stanford felt like the best choice. Dean was distant and probably blamed him for the beatings and the cruelty. The suspicions of those teachers followed him everywhere. Even as teenagers they couldn't fully be themselves. Dean saw himself as a predator and shut every move Sam made down. Neither of them were happy. Sam thought leaving would be best. 

Jessica wasn't Dean, but she was close. They both are horrible food and loved the same classic rock. Her smile was bright like Dean's used to be. If Sam closed his eyes and tried hard enough, he could pretend Dean was kissing him, too. She was a cheap copy, but the copy worked. Even if Sam still called Dean every night and slept with his shirt. 

It took them months to be okay once Jessica died. Without dad and teachers, there was no guilt looming over them. They were brothers again. Every once in a while they would touch or hug or say something nice. Dean chose not to do any of those much, but it wasn't out of fear. When mom died he stopped being sweet, at least that was what John had said. In the back of Sams mind was his passionate love for Dean. He resisted the urge to kiss him and hold him because this was okay. Having Dean was okay. 

When Dean died, so did Sam. His love was still there and it was a painful reminder. He drank and did drugs and tore himself apart in every way. He was alone again and living felt impossible. Until Ruby. Sam didn't like girls, but she swore the blood could bring Dean back and Sam was so desperate. He would have done anything to get Dean back. 

Dean came back and they were okay, well, okay until Dean found out about the blood. Then they were back to sqaure one. Dean called Sam the names he had been labeled his entire life and it made Sam feel dirty. Demon blood made him sick and twisted like the man on T.V., it made him bad like abusers. That's what made Sam want to fix it all. He needed his Dean back. The one with bright eyes and loving smiles. The Dean that had been buried for too long. The Dean that made himself not love Sam.

Sam was sick of them being treated like monsters. Dean was good and Sam tried to be. He scratched and clawed through all the bad in order to make the right choices. They weren't monsters. They weren't bad. They were simply brothers who kept being torn apart by each and every thing that could get a grip on them. 

Dean was what got Sam through the pain. Each wave of pain set his nerves on fire, but the idea of Dean coming home to him eased the burn. Dean said if Sam got better Dean would love him again. Now the only thought on Sams mind was surviving. He needed them to be okay again. Dean had been ripped from him so many times, he couldn't risk being the ultimate downfall of their relationship. 

Heavy boots stomped against the stairs as someone came down. Bobby. Sam was good at noticing who was coming. Castiel's footsteps were light while Bobby's were heavy. Dean's were reluctant and slow. But this? This was Bobby. Bobby was the only one who ever tried to love Sam through the ugly. Castiel had known the blood was in him since the beginning. Dean... Sam wasn't sure if Dean loved him anymore. He tried not to think about it.

"You up?" Bobby's face was filled with shadows. "I brought you something." His voice was loud and firm. "This shit sucks and its your birthday so it was the least I could do." There was silence, then the groan of the door being opened. "Maybe give you a small change of scenery."

"I can leave?!" Sam sat up as fast as he could. He felt dizzy.

"Now, I didn't say that." Bobby held a small plate in his hands with a vanilla cupcake on top. It was a big cupcake with green frosting spread on the top. In the middle was a candle that was slowly burning. "You just get to stare out of the door instead of at it."

"It's... it's still something." Being positive was hard, but it kept Sam going. "Is that for me?"

"It is your birthday, ain't it?"

"Yeah.... yeah, it is." Sam sat up and crossed his legs, looking down at his lap. "I just-"

"I know, kid. It sucks... but this... it'll be over soon. You are so close to getting it all out." Not all of it. But Ruby's blood would be gone. Sam couldn't wait to get rid of her for good. She made him feel dirty, too. "Maybe I can bring some new stuff down."

"Maybe." Sam whispered. He tried not to ask for things. Bobby and Dean were already inconvenienced by him. He didn't want to make them more angry. He took the cupcake from Bobbg and smiled and tried not to think about how he looked. His clothes were dirty and sweat stained. The hair he had was tangled and stuck to his head due to grease, while the other strands lay on the ground or on the bed. A few nightmares caused him to rip his hair out. He could feel the bald spots, but he didn't want to ask if they were there. Living was hard enough. 

Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath, blowing the candle out. He opened his eyes and smiled back at Bobby who was staring at him. 

"What did you wish for?" Bobby asked. He had pulled a chair up and sat down in front of Sam. "Hot babes? A million dollars? Wait-" He cracked a smile. "World peace?" 

"None of those but... world peace sounds pretty good. So does a world without monsters.... but..." Sam pinched the end of the candle and drug it out of the cupcake. "I know better than to wish for things. Wishes don't change shit, Bobby... and it sucks." As a child, Sam spent hours wishing for a better life and a better world. He wished and wished as hard as he could. Things only got worse. 

"I know... I know, Sam." Sam felt guilty for complaining, but throughout his entire life he had always been stuck between a rock and a hard place. He was tired. So tired. "But at least you didn't use the pen I brought down to off yourself. Castiel was sure you would."

"I wouldn't." Sam whispered, peeling the wrapper off of the cupcake. Each crumb that fell landed on the clean white plate. Sams stomach growled. He had been reduced to eating sandwiches and soups, but the pain took away the flavor. Nothing tasted good unless it was demon blood. "That would be a mess for you to clean up." 

Bobby laughed as if Sam was kidding. "Well, if it wasn't world peace, what did you wish for?" 

"Dean." Sam whispered. It sounded like a secret.

"Sam-"

"I know. He doesn't want to see me like this. I don't blame him but... I miss him. Castiel has came down more than he has and I... I'm scared." Sam set the cupcake down on the plate and stared at it. "What if... what if I never stop feeling this way and he hates me for it? He already hates me for Ruby- I-"

"He doesn't hate you. He's pissed and he's scared like the rest of us. None of us ever wanted you to feel... feel this horrible, this empty and torn up. But I rather have you feel like this for two and a half weeks than have you addicted to some monster blood."

"I think it made me a monster." Sam whispered. "I think... I don't think it'll ever be out of me. Or that the thirst will ever go away. I... I can feel it." Tears trickled down his cheeks. His biggest fear was being a monster. Turning into one of the things they hunt. One of the things people fear. The thought of it made him sick. 

"Don't talk like that." Sam couldn't help it. "You know you aren't like those things." He didn't. "So stop fucking acting like it. You'll be okay, I know you will be because you always are." Sam was tired of always being okay. "We are just all tired and stressed and worried just... just work with us."

"I'm sorry." Sam had been saying that an awful lot lately. "I...just miss him. I miss him being happy to see me. It's been so long, Bobby." He needed it. He needed to see Dean just one time so he could stop being tired, so all this pain could feel like it would be worth something.

"I'll... I'll ask. Okay? Just... just eat. I'll bring lunch down later and... I'll ask but don't get your hopes up." Bobby stood up, wiping his hands on his pants. "Deans just about as stubborn as you are." He took a step towards Sam. Then another. And another. "We love you, alright? Thats the thing about family. It's impossible for us to hate you no matter how fucking annoying it gets."

Sam smiled and Bobby left, leaving the door wide open. He could smell the fresh hair pouring down the stairs from the open front door. The air in the room was stale and the small light that was allowed in didn't do much about the air. There was no breeze in the room, no air flow. It was humid and hot and sticky. Sam could feel the sweat drip down his face. Everything about the room made him feel sick. The air was almost too thick to breathe.

Sam nibbled at the cupcake, trying to make it last. He never got sweet things. Everything he got was bland. Part of his mind couldn't help but wonder if they only fed him bland things as punishment. Sams hunger was never satisfied and the taste was never good, but ham and cheese sandwiches didn't have much to taste. Neither did chicken noodle soup. There were never meals, just one thing for him to eat each meal so he didn't die of starvation. The cupcake, though, tasted amazing, even if Sams senses were dulled down. 

The floorboards groaning signaled to Sam that someone was coming down the steps. He whipped around and looked out the door and up the stairs, grinning when he saw Deans boots on the third step from the top. He was coming down. Sam climbed off of the bed, stumbling towards the door, and falling when he stepped too far and the chains yanked him back. 

"Dean." Sam called. "Dean- please. Just come down. Just for a few minutes. I need... I need to see you so bad. Please-"

Dean stepped down another stair. Then another. And another. And another. He was wearing worn out jeans and a gray t-shirt with no jacket. He didn't have his rings on or his watch. The only piece of jewelry that hung from him was the golden amulet Sam had given him years prior. Back when they were okay. Peaceful and happy. Not a care in the world.

"You know..." Deans voice made Sams heart race. He stepped down the next stair then stepped off the stairs completely. "I don't come down because I hate seeing you like this. Broken down and in pain... it isn't because I hate you." He must have heard Sam talking to Bobby. "I just... I can't do it. You're my brother-"

"I'm getting better." Sam felt like crying but he wasn't sure if it was from happiness or sadness. "I'll be better soon then it won't be painful for you to see me anymore." It killed Sam that Dean couldn't look at him. He had already disappointed him so much. "We'll be okay again."

Dean stood in front of him, only a foot separated them. "Happy birthday." He muttered, looking down at Sam. "I hate this room. Monsters belong in here."

Sam felt like vomiting. He was a monster. He had been locked in there for days already. Bobby and Dean and Castiel all believed he belonged in there. That means they believed he was a monster. "I wished for you."

"What?" Dean wasn't looking at him anymore. He had his hands stuffed in his jean pockets. 

"Bobby brought me down a cupcake with a candle on it and I... I wished for you. To come and see me." Sam chewed on his lip and sat up, pushing himself to his feet. "And it came true... you're here." Sam tried not to think about Bobby having to force Dean down the stairs. He liked to think Dean missed him just as much.

"Thats a wasted wish." Dean looked up at him and he looked beautiful. Bright green eyes and freckles that looked like stars. Sam had counted them a million times. It was an easy way to pass the time and an excuse to stare at Dean. "Should've wished for a stripper or something-"

"Dean." Sam reached out for Dean and frowned when Dean pulled away. "I..." He dropped his hand to his side. "I would rather have you than any stripper." 

"You're sweet." Dean took his hand and stepped closer, curling around Sam. His arms were tight around Sams waste. Sam knew Dean was only touching him out of pity or guilt, maybe both, but he didn't care. Dean was still touching him. 

"I'm getting better for you." Sam whispered. He pressed their foreheads together and stared down at Dean. They never got this close, not since Dean was ten. Even after Stanford they hadn't gotten this close. 

Without thinking, Sam leaned in and kissed Dean, cupping his cheeks. He kissed him softly, nipping at his lips in the most gentle way he could. Dean tasted like cheap beer and vodka. Sam had spent years dreaming what this would taste like. His senses were no longer numb.

Dean jerked away and stared at him. Wide eyed with semi-swollen lips. "Sam." He sounded disgusted. "What the hell?" Angry. "That... you... you kissed me."

Sam swallowed, nodding. Without another word, Dean turned down and rushed up the stairs, closing the door behind him. Sam stared at the door, collapsing onto the floor. His knees ached when they slammed into the ground, but his heart hurt more than anything. Tears fell down his cheeks and sobs ripped from his body.

They would never be okay again.


End file.
